


A Firm Hand

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: A Firm Hand [5]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: D/s, M/M, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Momoi's curiosity gets the better of her, and she gets more than she bargained for.</p><blockquote>
  <p> Imayoshi-san, what are you doing to him?</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	A Firm Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Adult for smut. Follows Punishment Detail, so expect D/s vibes. 2471 words.

There was no mistaking the fact that Dai-chan was behaving himself in practice these days, especially compared to his behavior from before Imayoshi-san had decided to take him in hand. Satsuki didn't think he was any less bored than he'd been before Imayoshi-san had started holding him back for private sessions, but his outward attitude had changed. Dai-chan wasn't such a good actor that he could fool Satsuki, of course, but he _was_ showing up to practice and participating and even going out of his way (sort of) to be a good sport about it all.

Satsuki supposed that it made her ungrateful that she couldn't simply accept the change, but she wanted to know what on _earth_ Imayoshi-san was doing to produce such remarkable results.

Dai-chan refused to talk about it, no matter how much she coaxed and pleaded and harassed him. He shut her down every time, telling her to forget about it before changing the subject. Satsuki would have just about respected that—no one as proud as Dai-chan would want to talk about being disciplined—if it weren't for the fact that Dai-chan was _different_ after his sessions with Imayoshi-san, relaxed somehow, or eased—it was different from his usual indolence, almost like something had settled inside him.

Satsuki was about to go crazy wondering how Imayoshi-san was managing to make this happen. "How are you _doing_ this?" she demanded when Dai-chan's behavior had remained good (for him) for the better part of six weeks.

Imayoshi-san turned a perfectly innocent expression on her. "Beg pardon, Momoi-chan?"

Satsuki jerked her head at Dai-chan, who was in the middle of a practice match and had, wonder of wonders, just completed a play in cooperation with his teammates. "That. Imayoshi-san, what are you doing to him?"

She'd never seen a smile so full of secrets as the one he turned on her then. "I reckon that's between me and him, don't you?" He spread his hands. "All I can say is that he just needed a firm hand, really."

Satsuki supposed that yes, he was almost certainly correct about that—Dai-chan was doing better than he had for a good long time—but all the same, that just wasn't _enough_. No matter how she wracked her brain, she couldn't puzzle out what Imayoshi-san was actually _doing_ with Dai-chan.

In the absence of any other options, she concluded that the only way to find out what was going on was to investigate for herself.

The two of them had settled into a sort of schedule, one that had Imayoshi-san sending the rest of the team home early one evening a week and detaining Dai-chan after the post-practice sessions on Saturdays. It was simple enough to go with the rest of the team when he dismissed them on the next Saturday, simple enough to take the time to purchase a soda from a vending machine and drink it before doubling back to their gym and carefully opening a door just wide enough to slip inside.

She needn't have bothered with the stealth, she found—the gym was empty, already tidied and swept, and neither Imayoshi-san nor Dai-chan were anywhere in sight. 

Satsuki checked the time, puzzled, because she hadn't taken _that_ long to get her drink. Really, she'd only waited long enough to be certain that the last of the boys had emerged from the locker room and dispersed about their respective business. 

Perhaps Imayoshi-san and Dai-chan had had a short session, she concluded, and headed over towards the locker room to see whether she'd be able to hear them inside, changing.

A few steps from the door, she stopped in her tracks, arrested by the unmistakable sound of Dai-chan's voice, though there was a hoarse, breathless edge to it that she'd never heard before. "Please… _please_ , sir…"

Imayoshi-san laughed, a throaty chuckle whose harmonics were also different from any other sort of laughter she'd heard from him. "Since you ask so nicely, brat."

Satsuki heard Dai-chan's voice again, no words to it this time, just a heartfelt groan and the low, pleased murmur of Imayoshi-san's voice over it, encouraging him.

She was barely aware of her decision to creep forward, making no sound as she edged closer, close enough to peek around the edge of the door, because she had to _know_ what Imayoshi-san was doing to make Dai-chan sound like _that_.

Dai-chan was kneeling on the locker room floor, his knees splayed wide on the tile—his bare knees, she realized, feeling her face go hot as she realized that he was _naked_. Not just naked, but hard, too: his cock jutted up, flushed dark against his stomach, and it wasn't as though she'd never seen Dai-chan naked, it was just that it had been a while ago and never quite like _this_ —

Satsuki tore her eyes away from—from _that_ , feeling hot and embarrassed, only to take in the rest of the scene. Dai-chan had his hands behind his back, no, they were _tied_ behind his back, there was a strip of something bright-colored wound round and round his wrists, and another strip tied around his head, covering his eyes, and—and—

Satsuki pulled away from the door and leaned against the wall, breathing hard, as though she'd just run a race, feeling hot and shaky all over. She shook her head until her hair whipped around her face, but it was no good—she could still see it in her mind's eye, Imayoshi-san's hands curved around Dai-chan's jaw, cradling his head, _holding_ him, and Dai-chan's lips shaping themselves around—Satsuki raised her hands and pressed them against the flaming heat of her cheeks, though it did very little to relieve the hot, shaky feeling that had swept through her the moment she'd realized that Dai-chan was sucking Imayoshi-san's cock.

Dai-chan was tied up and blindfolded and sucking Imayoshi-san's cock and he seemed to _like it_ , because Satsuki could still hear his voice over the thundering of her pulse in her ears. He was moaning like he was enjoying a special treat—Satsuki squeezed her eyes shut and clapped her hand over her mouth, horrifyingly certain she was never going to be able to see Dai-chan eating an ice cream again without thinking of this moment.

Well. Now she knew why Dai-chan wouldn't tell her what his and Imayoshi-san's private sessions involved. Satsuki strangled the urge toward sudden hysterical laughter, not without some difficulty, and took a step away from the locker room door, meaning to slip away and figure out some means of forgetting what she'd witnessed.

A change in Dai-chan's voice stopped her mid-step, something between a whine and a moan, and she heard him speak, protest maybe. "Sir…!"

It wasn't her place to be seeing any of this, she'd already seen far too much, Satsuki _knew_ that, but she turned around anyway, because it was Dai-chan and he sounded desperate. He looked desperate, too, when Satsuki peeked around the edge of the door—he was arched beneath Imayoshi-san's hand, the muscles of his arms and shoulders standing out in relief, and Imayoshi-san had his hand curved around the back of his head, holding him. Satsuki had never see Dai-chan's mouth look so red and swollen; she'd never heard the tiny, hungry sounds that were coming from his throat. 

Imayoshi-san was standing between Dai-chan's knees, smiling down at him as Dai-chan jerked his hips against the air to unmistakably lewd purpose. Imayoshi-san looked—Satsuki didn't know _what_ Imayoshi-san looked like, except that she knew it was an intensely private expression that he was wearing, one that was unguarded and somehow gentle. "Look at you." His voice didn't reflect any of that tenderness or affection; it was a dark chocolate purr that had Satsuki biting her lip in response. "I think you'd hump my leg if I let you, you want it so bad."

Dai-chan moaned; Satsuki saw the way his cock bobbed between his thighs. "Please… oh please, I can't—I need—"

"I reckon you can do more than you think, brat." Imayoshi-san tucked some small object into his pocket and closed his hand around the length of his cock, guiding it against Dai-chan's mouth. "Take it." He sounded merciless, but he looked anything but—he closed his eyes as he slid his cock into Dai-chan's mouth again, and kept going, Satsuki saw, her mouth running dry at the realization as Dai-chan groaned and swallowed Imayoshi-san's cock down. Imayoshi-san groaned, too, curving his hands around Dai-chan's head, cradling it as he rocked his hips back and forth in tiny strokes.

As Satsuki watched, he stroked his thumb over Dai-chan's cheekbone, rubbing it back and forth. That gesture, too, was at odds with the way he was holding Dai-chan and standing with his feet planted wide to keep Dai-chan's knees spread mercilessly open, to keep him from being able to move his hips in anything more than tiny, useless jerks. 

This wasn't something for her to see—none of this was anything but private—and Satsuki knew she needed to close her eyes and turn away, forget everything she was seeing. And yet, she wasn't. She was still standing there, soaking in every detail, when Imayoshi-san's voice changed, going rough. As she watched, he gripped Dai-chan's hair, holding him as he pulled back, sliding his cock out of Dai-chan's mouth. He wrapped his other hand around it, and—

Satsuki may have made a sound, a shocked squeak that she immediately muffled against the palm of her hand, but Imayoshi-san and Dai-chan were too absorbed in their own affairs to notice her reaction as Imayoshi-san came over Dai-chan's face, muttering broken, breathless curses as he did. Dai-chan arched against his hold, trembling and uttering little pleading sounds like nothing Satsuki had ever heard. "Please… oh fuck, sir, _please_ …"

He was _begging_ , Dai-chan was kneeling at Imayoshi-san's feet with come streaking his face and he was _begging_. If she hadn't sunk her teeth in her lip hard enough to taste copper and iron, she'd have known that she was having the most peculiar dream of her life. 

Imayoshi-san relaxed all at once, his posture going loose and easy as he panted. He gazed down at Dai-chan, smiling—another one of those warm, affectionate smiles. "Just look at you, brat. I've never seen anyone who wants it as badly as you do."

Dai-chan whined, the edge of it desperate. 

Imayoshi-san chuckled as he released Dai-chan's hair, ruffling his fingers through the sweat-soaked spikes that stood out all over his head, and slid his foot between Dai-chan's thighs, edging it under him. "I suppose you've earned it."

Dai-chan moaned wordlessly, but Satsuki could hear his gratitude and relief as he rolled his hips forward—

She stifled another squeak before it could escape, because Imayoshi-san was doing just what he'd suggested, letting Dai-chan rub himself against his leg just like a dog… though she doubted Imayoshi-san would have looked so indulgent with an actual dog, or that he would have cradled a dog's head against his stomach so tenderly.

For Dai-chan's part, he was breathless, moaning wordless sounds as he moved, and his expression—what she could see of it beneath the blindfold—was open and intent and so familiar that it made Satsuki's throat ache. She hadn't seen Dai-chan look like that since before he'd realized that there wasn't anyone who could stand against him on the basketball court.

Imayoshi-san stroked Dai-chan's hair, smoothing it down. "You need a little more, brat?"

Dai-chan shuddered. "Please, sir."

Satsuki didn't know what that meant, but Imayoshi-san dipped his hand into his pocket and produced—it looked like a remote, but that didn't make any sense, even though he was adjusting the dial on it with his thumb—

Dai-chan shouted, the sound of it strangled, and bucked against Imayoshi-san's leg. No, he was coming, his entire body shaking with it, and it seemed to go on and on, until Imayoshi-san moved his thumb over the little remote again. Dai-chan sagged then, breathing hard, slumping against him—oh. _Oh_. Satsuki hadn't thought her face could feel any hotter, but somehow it did when she realized that there must have been—must still be—some kind of— _inside_ —and Imayoshi-san had been controlling it—

She shuddered hard, the wave of her reaction rolling through her, and she didn't have the least idea what she thought of that.

Imayoshi-san knelt, taking Dai-chan's weight and bulk as he slumped forward, and the first thing he did was reach behind Dai-chan to—to—Satsuki felt her eyes go wide at how _thick_ the thing was, because surely that couldn't have been _inside_ Dai-chan—

Dai-chan made a sound, a protest, and Imayoshi-san shushed him. "That was a good job, brat." He untied Dai-chan's hands and ran his fingers over them, checking them for something before spread his hand against Dai-chan's back to run it up and down his spine. "A very good job. I'll have to remember this."

Dai-chan didn't really respond to that, not within anything more than a hum, deep and lazy, but he leaned his head against Imayoshi-san's shoulder, smiling beneath his blindfold. Imayoshi-san stroked his hand up and settled it on his nape—

Satsuki took a step back, abrupt, taking them out of her field of vision, and retreated on soundless steps. She let herself out of the gymnasium as quietly as she'd first entered it and then fled to her room, locking the door behind her and leaning against it, breathing hard and trying not to think as she hiked her skirt up and slid her hand into the soaked mess of her panties, but _that_ was impossible. Images tumbled through her head as she plunged two fingers into herself and rocked her palm down on her clit, frantic with the way her body ached for release—she groaned as she fucked herself on her fingers, shaking as she pushed herself over the edge and orgasm slammed through her, and then again, and again, until her forearm was screaming and her knees were threatening to give out on her. 

She hunched over herself, breathing hard, and though she was trying her best to forget what she'd witnessed, she could still see the way Dai-chan had settled against Imayoshi-san, like he'd found the anchor he hadn't even known he'd needed, that _she_ hadn't known he'd needed, and she could recognize the feeling that had put a sharp ache in her chest: it was jealousy.

Satsuki closed her eyes and rubbed her face with her clean hand, muttering a curse as she did, because she was fairly certain that it was _Imayoshi-san_ she was supposed to be jealous of, here, not Dai-chan, and for the life of her, she didn't have the first idea what to do about that.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so I've had the rough draft of this hanging out in my notebook since early June, but I only just now found the time-energy-inclination to type it up and edit it for posting. Hurrah for being employed again, or something like that.
> 
> Comments are always lovely!


End file.
